


A Misunderstanding Between Friends

by Carohas



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, jealous!Cassian, the other guys are mostly just mentioned, this is heavily rebelcaptain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 14:17:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9552524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carohas/pseuds/Carohas
Summary: Sometime after the events at Scarif, Jyn asks Cassian to join her at the base Cantina. When he's a no show, Jyn finds someone else to have fun with. The next morning Cassian comes by to apologise and runs into Jyn's lover instead. Jealousy ensues.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This got a lot sexier than originally intended.. sorry?
> 
> Apologies for any language errors, I have no excuses, but I'm sorry all the same.
> 
> *I spotted some spelling/grammar errors and edited accordingly

Jyn takes a swig of her drink as she tries to forget the handsome Captain who obviously wasn’t coming. The embarrassment of being stood up by him was like a red hot brand slowly making its way through her chest. _How stupid, of course he isn’t coming. It’s all in your head. You’re just a child to him._ The drink was strong but the voices in her head were stronger still. She needed another. 

As she tried to catch the server’s eye, she felt a hand on the small of her back, and for one brief second, she felt her traitorous heart leap, only to sink even further as she turned to find a clean shaven young private smiling at her. “Can I buy you a drink?”

It’s a simple question that usually has a different answer, but as she brazenly casts her gaze over him, she realises that this neat blonde man, with his light blue eyes and broad shoulders is nothing like the man she refuses to waste any more time on. A voice that’s remained dormant for too long whispers, _he’ll do,_ and her night begins in earnest.

 

There’s a direct correlation between the number of drinks she’s had and her diminishing thoughts of Cassian, but he’s still _there_ , lurking on the fringes of her mind, refusing to let her surrender herself completely to someone else. It’s this feeling she chases from her mind as she drags Simeon onto the dance floor, spinning around and pulling him close, her hips teasing him with possibility. 

For a man who hit on her in a Cantina, he’s so slow off the mark it’s as if they’re running entirely different races. She pulls his arms around her, placing his hand on her waist, another on her breast, and smiles as he finally seems to get the hint, pressing soft kisses to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, his grip on her tightening. 

They hold hands as they bumble their way to her room, pausing to kiss in dark corners as they remind themselves why they’re anxious for the privacy of her quarters.

As she fumbles with the code to her room, she can feel him against her back, his hands softly running down and around her waist, electrifying her and distracting her from the task at hand. 

When the door finally, _finally_ opens, she spins around, catching his mouth with hers and dragging him into the room with her. He walks her back into the room until she hits the wall, and his hands pin hers against it, leaving her open to his ministrations. His lips go to her neck, eliciting a soft moan of impatient desire as she halfheartedly tries to break free of his grip. He moves her hands so they’re are held down by only one of his, as the other starts to snake its way down her body, and slips beneath the waistband of her trousers. She gasps as his fingers hit the mark, her head falling back against the wall as he brings her ever closer to the edge. When his hand releases hers, she pushes him back, eager to hear him moan, to have him inside her.

Without the wall to lean on, her attempts at undressing land her on the floor before she pulls herself up onto the bed, finally divested of clothing, her bare skin on his. 

It’s a drunken, passionate frenzy, driven by her longing to be close to someone, to have that fire within her doused, and he does a credible job, but as she slips into sleep, she can’t stop herself thinking of the man that ignited that fire in the first place.

 

* * * * * *

 

Cassian Andor is well aware he has no claim on Jyn Erso, but he’s never been more aware of it than right now, as he stands on the wrong side of her door while another man opens it. He can’t stop himself from scanning the room, it’s a habit that life as a spy has drilled into him, but as his glance surveys her room, he wishes he could.

Her room, usually so _bare_ and devoid of life, looks as though a strong wind has blown through and dislodged everything from its place. Her clothes are strewn across the room, she lays in bed, sprawled beneath a thin sheet, her small figure far too apparent to him. He struggles to remind himself of the facts. _She’s a free woman, she can do what she wants, she can sleep with whomever she chooses. I have no claim on her, I have no claim on her, I have no claim on her._

The Private, despite the glazed look in his eyes, recognises him immediately, standing to attention with his hand raised in salute. He takes no small amount of pleasure in that moment, though he knows it’s beneath him. “Private, what are you doing here?”

“I, uh…” 

“Do you have clearance to be in the Officers’ quarters?”

He bows his head, then, “no, Sir.”

Cassian notices Jyn stirring. Sees her carefully wrap the sheet around her and steel herself for this conversation. By the time she makes it to the door, she’s wearing a smile he helped her perfect, one they’ve used to charm and disarm targets, but his knowing this only makes his blood run hotter. “Cassian, what are you doing here?” She asks with a too-polite tone to her voice that cuts him to the quick. 

He tries to return her smile as he drags his eyes from the intimidated Private, but he thinks it comes out more like a grimace. As his eyes settle on her, he takes in all the signs of her night before; the flush of her cheeks, her mussed up hair, and the sheet that preserves her modesty. He wishes he were the cause. _No claim, not yours, no claim, not yours._ “Jyn, how lovely to see you. You know, I was just asking Private…” He motions toward the man, and a small, shameful part of him wants to laugh as the Private flinches.

“Private Simeon Dinaru.” He pauses, then adds, “Sir.” Simeon stands a little straighter as he says it, eager to please. Whether it’s him or Jyn, he’s uncertain, but continuing to answer his questions surely isn’t going to please Jyn. _Not anymore than he has already,_ the dark thought comes to him, unbidden and unwelcome.

“And what were you doing in the Sergeant’s quarter?” 

“I, uh, that is we…” 

“He was just showing me a good time, weren’t you, Simeon.” He feels a little bit sick at her words, as he watches her hold the sheet up with one hand and turn Simeon to look at her with the other. He doesn’t recognise the look they exchange, _is it one she shares with her lovers?_

“Uh, yes.” He replies to her hesitantly, and Cassian wonders what she saw in him. Sure he’s pretty, with the kind of eyes he’s seen women swoon over in the past, but _Jyn?_ The thought that this might be the kind of man she wants… It hurt a part of him he wasn’t sure still existed.  Simeon was clearly out of his depth, unaware of the spar that was happening with him in the middle, but his final attempt to stand up to Cassian was at least somewhat admirable. “We, uh, had fun,” he confirmed, “and now I think I’m needed back at barracks.” He leans back into the room to grab his jacket, pecks her on the cheek, and with a quick salute to Cassian, disappears down the hall.

 

 

 

“Why don’t you come in,” she says with a sigh as she pushes the door open. He storms past her, repeating the words _you have no claim on her_ like its a mantra that just might keep him from doing anything stupid. She closes the door behind him as she yawns, “what are you doing here, Cassian? It’s early.” 

“I know.” He tried to calm his raging blood, the territorial beast inside of him that want to take her in his arms and claim her as his own. He breathed out, “since when do I need a reason to come see you?"

"Since you decided to abuse your authority and chase my... Simeon away."

Even though he knows she didn't mean  _her_ Simeon, it grates him the wrong way to hear the two words spoken so closely together. "If he can't handle a few questions from a superior officer, he has no business being here in the first place." He sees that this line of conversation won't get him anywhere, and tries to return to the point he came to make. "I want to apologise, for last night. Something urgent-"

She shakes her head, “I don’t need to hear this, Cass. You didn’t come, it’s fine, I had a good time without you.” The way her eyes dart from his betray her lie; her attempt at nonchalance.

Her supposed ambivalence sends his jealousy over the edge and he hears a feral hiss in his voice as he tries to refrain from waking her neighbours. “I _couldn’t_ come! There's a difference. But anyway, that’s no reason to go home with some… child!” 

Her anger seems to match his as she retorts, “he’s certainly no _child_ , Cassian, he’s my age.” She throws that piece of information out there as another thought crosses her face, “or is that what you think of me, too? Just another child, another soldier for you to command?!” 

“Just another?” He repeats her, astounded that this is what she thinks of him, of his feelings for her. “Jyn, you know I —“

“Know you what, Cassian? What have you ever shared with me?” She looks down then, and he thinks she's trying to catch herself, before she says anything she doesn’t mean. “I want you to go.” She looks back up at him and he sees he was wrong; she was trying to hide her tears.

His voice catches as he tries to respond to her. “Jyn, please,” he speaks softly, taking a step toward her, his heart in his throat as he looks down and sees a different Jyn than he’s used to, one who is vulnerable and hurt; small and upset. He reaches out to her, only for her to take a step back. 

"Please go, Cassian.”

His heart lurches, but he steps away purposefully. “As you wish, Sergeant.” He leaves her room silently, stepping around the clothes that still litter the ground, and shutting the door softly behind him. _What have I done?_

Cassian Andor, a veritable master of compartmentalisation, was finding it increasingly difficult to do so where Jyn Erso was concerned. Barely a minute had gone by before he wanted to return to her room and beg her forgiveness, but she’d asked him to leave, and he’d be damned if he wasn't going to respect her wishes.

 

 

She keeps her tears from falling until she hears the soft thud of the door, and throws herself on the bed. Curled up in foetal position, she can't help but ask herself, _what are you doing? This is not you. Pull yourself together._

She let the last of the tears fall in one self-indulgent sob, before wiping them away, determined to get on with her day. She blamed the alcohol that was probably still in her system. She’d never start crying over something so simple as a missed date with a _friend_ if she weren’t still a little bit drunk.

She almost convinces herself that that’s all he is to her.

 

 

* * * * * *

 

 

She’s taken to avoiding him at meal times, and the rest of the crew are starting to notice. Baze and Chirrut merely look at him expectantly, as though he has something to explain to them. How Chirrut manages to replicate Baze's exact glare, he'll never understand.

It's Bodhi who finally puts it into words. “What did you do?”

“What makes you think I did anything?”

Bodhi raises an eyebrow, “Jyn hasn’t missed dinner with us in months, of course there’s something wrong. And the gossiping pilots.”

Cassian let out a sigh, of course there could be no secrets on this base. He thinks about it for a moment, tasting the explanation on his tongue before deciding it's too much, it's too real to share just now. “I… I don’t want to talk about this.” 

He picks up his plate and as he walks away, his ears prick up as Chirrut says, too loudly, “he doesn’t know he loves her.”

 

* * * * * *

 

Bodhi is the one who tells her Cassian's leaving, going on a mission to force-knows-where, for an indefinite period of time. “Jyn, whatever happened, you know he loves you, right?”  She looks up at him sharply at the mention of _that_ word, and he begins to self-correct. “Like uh, he loves all of us. The team.”

She drops her gaze from his, and hears the sigh of relief he looses. “Bodhi, you don’t even _know_ what happened. It was _so_ embarrassing. I…” She feels the heat of her embarrassment making its way up her neck, and has no desire to relive it. “I can’t talk about it.”

He chuckles, but it’s devoid of humour. “You two are so alike. Just go see him, Jyn. You’ll regret it if you don’t, especially if… something happens.” He nods at her in farewell, leaving her to her thoughts, and she wonders how correct he might be. 

 

* * * * * *

 

He’s about to leave on a mission when he spots her across the hangar, and she catches his gaze. This time, instead of quickly averting her own, she gestures for him to follow her. He glances up at K-2, who’s readying the ship for departure. “I’ll be back in a moment.” 

“Sir, I really must insist we leave as soon as possible. The odds —”

“K, just wait for me. I won’t be long.” His eyes remain locked on Jyn, desperate not to lose her as she weaves her way through the base.

He finds her leaning against the door of his room, waiting. They don’t speak as he leans around her to open it, their eyes still locked on one another’s, breathing the same air, his heart pounding so loudly it’s all he can hear. 

 

 

 

Standing so close to Cassian is almost more than she can bear. His stupidly handsome face is so close to hers she could lean forward and his lips would be on hers, his beard scratching her chin, his hands on her body, holding her close, and for a moment she loses herself in the fantasy. The sound of the door opening pulls her back to reality, where she reminds herself that she isn’t this person to him, and her longing to be close to him is quickly replaced with a desire to put as much space between them as possible. She backs into the room, ready to get this conversation over with so she can leave, and escape this torture. 

With the room between them, she feels as though she can breathe again, and her apology slips quickly from her lips as she stares at the ground, “I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean to imply anything about your leadership, or cause any friction with the crew. I just thought I should say goodbye before you leave.” She looks up at him as she finishes her spiel, “so, goodbye.” Her eyes drop from his as she tries to move past him, but his hand reaches out to her wrist, holding her next to him. 

“Jyn,” he speaks softly, his breath warm against her exposed neck, and she wonders if he can hear her hammering heart, too. “Jyn, I’ve missed you, please don’t leave so soon. I’m sorry. I was out of line, you’re not a child, you’re not… you’re not _mine_ , I had no place to judge. Please, please forgive me.”

She looks up at him then, judging the sincerity of his words against the look on his face, “I do, Cassian.” She mirthlessly laughed, “can you forgive me for asking you out in the first place? Starting this whole mess?”

He shook his head, and for a moment she thought the damage between them mightn’t be repaired, but his eyes were squeezed tight and his hand came up to shield them from her. “Wait, what? You, you were… asking me out? Like… a date?” He moves his hand and his eyes are wide with disbelief, but he must see the answer written on her face, because then he’s turning away from her, throwing his hands in the air and shouting something at the ceiling. It’s not the first time that she’s wished she understood his home tongue. 

 

 

 

He can hear her chest rising and falling, and its a sound that calms the whirlwind of emotions he’s become. “Jyn…” His voice is barely a whisper as he goes back to her, taking her hands in his and begging her to believe him. “I misunderstood, I thought…” His voice trails off as her realises that, whatever is about to happen here, he doesn’t want it to be based on her pity, or his begging. Whatever happens, he wants her to know the truth, to make an informed decision. 

He straightens his back, and tries another tack. “Jyn, had I known what it was you truly meant when you asked me to join you that night, I’d have been there, orders or no. You… You’re too important to me to lose over a stupid, stupid misunderstanding, Jyn. Please forgive me.”

 

 

 

She’s little more than a statue, a bystander to what is unfolding here. Her forgotten plans of sharing her feelings had involved alcohol for good reason; she didn’t know if she had the strength to open herself up to anyone without it.

_But this is Cassian._ Cassian, with whom she almost died, Cassian, the man who’s standing in front of her, telling her exactly what she didn’t realise she wanted to hear. Cassian, whose hands on hers felt like a flame licking at her skin, whose eyes bored into her soul, stripping it bare and laying waste to the damaged edges, the parts of herself she could hardly accept. 

His eyes are a chaotic pool of emotion, fear and hope swirling together, an imperfect reflection of her own emotional state. _He’s like me.  
_

It’s this realisation that has her leaning into him, reaching for his lips and giving in to the fire that’s been burning within her for too long. He doesn’t respond immediately, and that small voice that doesn’t believe he could truly want this threatens to overwhelm her and send her crashing down into the depths of despair. He frees her from the thought as he pulls her hard against him, his lips moving slowly on hers, as if by slowing their movements they could defy time itself, and never have to leave this room. 

Patience has never been one of her strong suits, and this is no exception. She’s waited long enough, her desire for him has been building since they met, and now that his arms are around her, now that he is all she can feel, the dam that’s been holding her back is ready to burst. 

 

 

 

Pulling away from Jyn is one of the hardest things he’s ever done, but _damn it_ , he doesn't want it to happen like this. He steps away rom her, his lips still tingling, his hands raised in front of him as he tries to convince them both there’s more in store for them. Her eyes open slowly as she looks at him with equal parts confusion and longing. He shakes his head, and his voice is hoarser than he expects when he answers the question that’s written all over her body, “Not like this.”

“Not like _what_?” The confusion in her voice is tempered with frustration, and the most base part of himself can _relate._

“Not like some rushed hook up in a dark corner some place.” He didn’t notice the he’d moved toward her again until her breath was slightly warm against his chest, and he realised he was in the danger zone once more. He spoke softly, his gaze struggling to stay on her eyes, his body all too aware of the rise and fall of her chest. “Jyn, when I _do_ take you to my bed, I want to take my _time._ ” Before he was aware of it, she was moving backwards, and like a magnet, he was following her. “To wring every microgram of pleasure from you,” he continued as her back hit the wall, and his hand brushed up against her hip, “to hear you call my name, over and over, until there are no more words to say.” 

His fingertips ran softly over her top, under her jacket, creating a line of electricity between them that was very nearly his undoing. With his hand settled on her waist and their gaze locked, he didn’t see her arm move around him, only felt her hand on his ass, bringing him flush against her, his body feeling every inch of her; his self control waning as he suppressed a groan. Her eyes fluttered from his as she gauged his reaction, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she asked a simple question, her gaze steady on his once more. “And if this is our last chance?”

He was slowly realising that this game of seduction went both ways, and he was learning it to his detriment. She held his gaze as her second hand ran up his side and into his hair, only losing sight of her as her lips pressed softly to his neck, and his arm reached blindly out for the wall, for something to steady himself against. The wall was a cold, albeit welcome, tether to reality; to the outside world that wasn’t _Jyn._

By the time her lips reached his collarbone he was aflame. His last vestige of control was almost lost as she pulled slightly away from him, and he barely contained the feral growl that bubbled up from deep inside him. He saw the self satisfied twinkle in her eye as she cocked her head to one side and feigned innocence. “So,” she let the silence, punctuated by his heavy breathing, drag between them as her eyes fell on his lips, “what do you want to _do_ , Captain?” Her eyes met his just as she addressed him by his title and whatever control he had left was shattered.

 

 

 

She almost screamed with delight at his immediate reaction to being called Captain in this context, but his mouth was on hers and he was pushing her against the wall and any thought outside of Cassian flew from her mind. 

He pushed her back, his body rolling against her as his lips captured hers, teasing and taunting her with images of what his tongue could be doing elsewhere. Her hands ran under his jacket, helping him throw it off so she could run her hands over him unimpeded, but soon even that thin layer of cotton was too much.

She pushed him away, just far enough so that she could take his shirt off him, then twist him around so his back was against the wall, and she was standing before him, still fully clothed. He tried to take a step to her, but her outstretched hand told him no, and he fell back against the wall, his eyes glued to her as he waited. 

She felt absurdly nervous to be naked in front of him, to be so vulnerable as to let him see all her scars; to have him question the origin of each one. That was what she was afraid of, truly. That he might ask, and that she might actually trust him enough to tell him. but as she looked at him, she saw a faint white line go across his ribs and disappear at the curve of his waist. She admonished herself for continually forgetting that he was an exception to her rules, that although he hadn’t been there with her, he _had_ been there.

 

 

 

He thought, for a brief second, that this was his punishment for years of seducing, killing and spying for the rebellion. How fitting that he should come this close to something he thought was real, only to have her slip from his grasp, as he had done to so many others. Only, she wasn’t gone. She was standing so close he could take a step and have her in his arms right now, but as he took that step, she raised her hand and he fell back against the wall, watching her, awaiting further command. 

He wished he could read her better, but this was completely new territory for them, her expressions foreign and unfamiliar. He was having difficulty thinking as his blood raced through his body, reallocating based on his ever growing desire for her.

He froze as she began to take her clothing off, and as her eyes only glanced at his, he began to understand. _That_ look in her eye, the one that told him she was afraid of being vulnerable and of what this meant for them, the fact that _this_ was a look he recognised stopped his weak heart. 

As she stepped out of her trousers, now completely naked in front of him, he could bear it no longer, and with one long step he drew her into his arms.

 

 

 

She doesn’t stop him when he takes her in his arms the second time. She saw the understanding through the mask of lust in his eyes as she undressed, and instead of pushing him away, instead of obsessing over the scars his fingers brushed, she allows herself to get caught up in the simple pleasure of his arms around her, of hers around him, his lips mumbling (what she assumes are) sweet nothings in his first language as they travel from her lips to her breast, igniting the skin beneath them.

Her hands act independent of thought, grazing over the planes of his chest, the hard muscle of his stomach to his belt. As his belt comes away she hears the quickening of his breath, feels his teeth gently bite her, and knows she is well on her way to having unravelled the constantly proper officer. 

She tilts his mouth back up to hers for a quick kiss before taking her mouth down, kissing his chest, his stomach, the v that disappears into the waistband of his trousers. She looks up at him as she undoes them, pulling them down to she kiss the inside of his thigh. She looks down then, at the captain with his trousers at his feet, his boots still visible beneath them, and lets out a little laugh, stepping up and away from him as she did so. “I’m sorry, Cassian but..” she giggles between sentences, “you’re usually the picture of propriety.” She laughs again, trying to catch her breath as she sits down in his armchair, memorising this image of him. 

 

 

 

He looks down then, at Jyn sitting naked in his armchair, laughing at him standing in the middle room, trousers at his boots, and concedes that she has a point. Not that he greatly enjoys the turn this has taken, muttering under his breath and planning his revenge as he undoes the laces of his boots, kicks them off and steps out of the puddle of his clothes, ready, once again, to replace Jyn’s smile with something a little more inappropriate for public consumption. 

His eyes return to her to find her not laughing, but languishing in his chair. With one of her legs slung across an arm, her other stretched out before her, her head leaning on one hand and the other drawing circles around a nipple, his mouth goes dry and all he wants is to worship at her feet.

 

 

 

She’s starting to consider it a personal victory whenever she doesn’t understand the words he huskily says to her. She regards him as he moves slowly toward her, coming to his knees in front of her, holding her leg as he presses soft kisses to her calf, tickles the back of her knee with his beard, alternating between sucking and nipping at her thigh as his hands pave the way for his lips. 

His hands come to rest on her hips just as his tongue reaches that most intimate part of her. Her head falls to rest against the arm of the chair, and her body to slips further toward him. With her eyes shut she is completely lost in the fire he’s stoking, seeing nothing but a dim red light behind her eyelids, feeling nothing but his tongue swirling between her folds, his hand holding her hip down, his fingers dragging softly, slowly to her centre. 

When his fingers enter her, she bucks against him, her eyes flying open, her hand entwining itself in his hair, urging him on. He times the thrust of his fingers with the swirl of his tongue, both getting faster as she gets closer and closer to the precipice. 

It hits her in waves, the pleasure emanating from her core and pulsating around her body, leaving her limp as he slowly withdraws his fingers and kisses her at her apex one more time, her body shuddering as he does so. 

She feels a soft pressure making its way up to her, and lifts her head in time to meet Cassian’s mouth with her own. The taste of herself on his lips serves as a reminder of where they just were, what they were just doing, and as he bends over her, she starts to sit up, still eager for more.

She chases his kisses until they are standing, his erection bumping her thigh, her breasts brushing against his chest. She turns to push him onto the chair, his eyes not leaving her as she straddles his hips, and lines him up to enter her. She feels Cassian jump at the contact, an involuntary thrust that has him apologising with a kiss that becomes hollow as she lowers herself on him. She nips at Cassian’s still open mouth before sitting up and beginning to ride him in earnest.

 

 

 

He lets her control their rhythm and speed, very content to lean back and enjoy the view and sensation of Jyn bouncing up and down on his prick, until she takes his hands, places them on her hips, and urges him on. He takes that cue, and sets a more brutal pace, his hips snapping up to meet hers as he lifts her up and brings her down on him, again, and again, and again. 

He slows down as he feels himself getting closer to the brink, sitting up to be close to her, to try make them go over it together. His lips go to her breast as they continue rocking, and he feels her skip a beat in response. As his hand slides down between them, rubbing circles at her clit, her head falls onto his shoulder, her lips pressing wet kisses against his neck, some of which are sure to leave a mark. 

When he feels her nails in his back, her walls softly clenching around him, he pulls out and thrusts back into her, quickly, sharply, and hears his name under her breath. He does it a second time,hearing her call his name a little louder, and a third, and a fourth until all she’s capable of is an incomprehensible moan that has him coming as deep inside her as their position will allow, his hips rolling erratically, her walls gripping him tight as they come down from their shared high. 

 

* * * * * *

 

He’s barely returned to his body when she moves her hips and curls herself in to his side, bringing his arm up around her. He hears her murmur into his chest, “and to think you said you didn’t want this.” 

He tilts his head down to press a soft kiss to her forehead, and shrugs with the arm she’s not wrapped up in. “You made a compelling argument.”

“And you still haven’t taken me to bed yet.” He feels her weight shifting across him as she seeks a better way to kiss him, just as he hears a knock at the door.

“Captain.” He groans at the sound of K-2’s voice, and Jyn’s head drops to his chest.

Her voice is barely audible as she whispers, “have I ever told you how much I hate that droid?”

“Captain, I really must insist we leave now, we’re already late.”

“I’ll just be a minute, K!” He lowers his voice to match hers, “only once or twice.”

“Captain, your records show that you are only late 3% of the time, 50% of which were intentional, 50% due to malady. Are you okay? Do I need to send for a medic?”

“No!”

“That’s my cue.” They speak at the same time, and as Jyn pushes herself off him and back onto the floor, he adds another strike against his mental list of Awkward K-2 Encounters. He inwardly grimaces at the loss of her heat against him, especially as she begins to dress herself again.

“K, I’ll meet you at the ship in five!”

“Sir, I—”

“Five, K.” His tone leaves no room for argument, and he hears the droid begin to move away. 

“Make sure that you do, Captain.”

He throws himself off the chair and catches Jyn just as she’s about to pull her shirt over her head. “Don’t go,” he whispers into her chest, lightly kissing her breast bone.

“Cassian, you have to go, you have a mission” She tugs her shirt over her head, and he suddenly feels very conscious of the fact that he’s still completely bare. Judging by the way her eyes are _so_ steadily focussed on his, she is too. 

He tries not to look too smug at this knowledge, but then she starts looking around the room to hand him his clothes, and he’s mildly offended. “Should I be hurt?” He pulls his pants on as he asks. 

“That depends on how long your memory is.” She turns away from him as she responds, giving him some unnecessary, redundant privacy, he guesses. 

He leans over to whisper his response into her ear. “Oh, I have a _very_ good memory.” He places a kiss on her cheek before spinning away to find his shirt. 

“I imagine it’s come in _handy_ during many a mission.” He can’t see her face, but he can imagine the coy smile there, and he chuckles at the double entendres as he shrugs his jacket on. 

 

She wishes that this wasn’t their lives, that the empire and the rebellion were nonexistent, so she didn’t have to have _this_ moment with him. He tugs her to him, resting his head on hers as he speaks, “I have to go. I wish I didn’t.”

She sighs, “me too.”

“I…” She can hear him struggling to find the words he _can_ say, the little knowledge he might be able to provide her, to comfort her while he’s gone, but she knows there’s nothing he can tell her, even before he says it.

“I know.” Years of looking after herself had left her reluctant to reveal anything to anyone, especially post-coitally, but she acknowledges that this is different, that he was different, even if she wasn’t entirely ready to say why yet. Instead, she simply adds, “I’ll be waiting for you. Come home soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> There may be more where this came from.. Sometimes ideas just flow, y'know? :)


End file.
